Yep… experiencing a writer’s block unfailing for several months felt like my brain was fried, and every inspiration although cognizant of each moment, appears to be locked in a room with glass doors; it makes sense breaking into your own house, doesn’t it?

It had to be an inside job… it had to. It takes an inside job to attack one so resilient to emotional injury. I mean, who gets room so freely enough to cause such trauma? It pierces too deep I cannot explain how it feels anymore because I cannot see beyond this ‘deep’.

You must be grinning from ear to ear. Yeah, I took the dance lessons and there’s no way I’m watching myself dance! God deliberately didn’t fashion me this way, but what is love is I cannot come out of my comfort zone and make my beloved happy on a request that wouldn’t undervalue me in any way?